Within three moons of the Great Commit, the Sovereign Basin had transformed beyond all recognition.
The change was not wrought by magic or royal decree, but by the sudden, explosive liberation of human cleverness. For thirty thousand years, mortal mechanics and smiths had lived under the constant threat of the Tribulation Engine. Any machine that generated more than a hundred kilojoules of moving power had been blasted to ash by sky-high lightning. That forced humanity to rely entirely on muscle power and primitive hand tools.
Now, with the sky disarmed and the physical laws locked into unchanging constants, the valley echoed with the thunderous roar of heavy-duty birth.
Lin Tao walked along the bank of the Azure River, his hands resting easily in the pockets of his canvas coat.
Beside him, three massive undershot waterwheels churned the rushing river current, each wheel twenty paces in width and built of seasoned mountain oak bound with forged star-iron bands. The roaring wheels were coupled to thick oak camshafts that drove six-ton iron stamp-mills. It crushed raw copper and iron ore into fine powder with rhythmic, ground-shaking thuds:
THUMP-CRACK. THUMP-CRACK.
A crowd of thirty apprentice mechanics and young smiths stood around the mill machinery. He held wooden measuring tongs, lead line-weight-bobs, and brass measuring rulers.
